


The Likeness

by Anonymous



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Come play, Deception, Dom/sub, Drugging, Emotional Manipulation, Humiliation, Infidelity, Keith whump, M/M, Mindfuck, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sex Toys, Slut Shaming, Spanking, Subspace, afab language, tagging that one for extra safety
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:08:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22472353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: They’ve only had sex twice so far. After the war had finished and they had nearly fallen into each other, Shiro had deemed it important to him to take their relationship slow. He wanted them to date and work on their communication before things got too heavy. He wanted them to focus on healing all the damage between them.Both times when they'd finally made it to bed had been after a lot of talking and kissing and touching. The sex had been soft, and highly emotional.This time is definitely not like that.[non-con filth fic, will have a happy OT3 ending]
Relationships: Keith/Kuron (Voltron), Keith/Kuron/Shiro (Voltron), Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 128
Kudos: 453
Collections: anonymous





	1. A Midnight Visit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **read those tags!!**
> 
> Non-con filth fic. Major tags will be in the top and per-chapter tags will be here in the author notes. 
> 
> This story features Kuron, which if you're unfamiliar with VLD is a fandom name for the "evil" Shiro clone. We will get into that in this fic, but please know if you're sensitive, this fic WILL feature Keith at first believing that Kuron IS Shiro. Keith is cis here, but AFAB language is used occasionally.
> 
> **additional tags for this chapter:** gagging

Keith wakes to a hand closing over his mouth. Immediately his body spikes up in alarm, thrashing at his attacker.

Except—

There’s a low laugh and Shiro’s metal arm easily blocking the blow. “Easy there kitten,” he says. He's on the bed, atop Keith, and he grinds his hips down in a lewd slide. Keith relaxes back into the sheets with a sigh.

“That’s it,” Shiro says.

He removes his hand from Keith’s mouth, but before Keith can ask about the sudden morning tryst, he’s pulling Keith’s shirt up to bare him and shoving the fabric in his mouth as a makeshift gag.

“Shh,” Shiro meets his eyes and they’re dark, flinty. Hot. Keith looks up at him warily.

They’ve only had sex twice so far. After the war had finished and they had nearly fallen into each other, Shiro had deemed it important to him to take their relationship slow. He wanted them to date and work on their communication before things got too heavy. He wanted them to focus on healing all the damage between them.

Both times when they'd finally made it to bed had been after a lot of talking and kissing and touching. The sex had been soft, and highly emotional.

This time is definitely not like that, and Keith is not about to pump the breaks. He wants everything from Shiro, even whatever this rougher, burning thing is.

Heavy hands run down Keith’s bare chest then, stopping at his nipples.

“Pretty little buds,” Shiro says, plucking one and then the other. “Would love to scrape them raw between my teeth. Get them so fat and swollen even the air hurts.” Hot shame drops through Keith at the imagery. He doesn’t know where this is coming from, and it’s almost a little frightening.

A little thrilling too.

Shiro looks down at him unwaveringly, and pinches each in turn again. Keith gasps into the gag.

“But that’s something for later patience," Shiro says, "right now I need to fuck your sweet little cunt.”

He flips Keith easily, a metal hand planting on the back of his neck to keep him down. Keith’s on his knees and Shiro is pulling his boxers down before Keith even knows what’s happened. Keith makes a sound of alarm, trying to push up for air, but it’s difficult. Shiro is strong and heavy on him.

He feels a frisson of fear.

“Fuck, look at you. Gorgeous.” Shiro’s human hand slides over his ass and then gives it a swat. “And let me see…” he pulls Keith’s apart, “such a tight hole. Gonna be perfect for me, aren’t you?”

Keith can barely breathe against the sheets, but his skin is molten. A finger touches his rim.

It disappears a moment later and then there’s a snap of a cap. Wetness touches his hole.

“Just a little,” Shiro says, “because I want you to feel it. Want that tightness on me.”

And then a thick finger is pushing inside him.

It’s too much too fast, and Keith squirms with a sound of distress. It’s been too long since the last time they were together, and even then Shiro had carefully and lovingly opened him up.

There’s none of that here. Shiro’s hand stays at the back of his neck, and he fingers Keith with more concern for spreading the lube than Keith’s pleasure. It's invasive and strange, stirring his muscles into tension.

“Fuck kitten,” Shiro croons, and then pulls his fingers out.

Keith already feels sore and raw, and he can't imagine anything further. He starts to fight in earnest now against Shiro, tugging at his wrists and trying to buck him off. This is too much and Keith can’t— can’t—

Something twists hard in his chest, and it aches like a tearing. He loves Shiro, trusts him, but this is…

“Wait!” He shouts it behind the gag as Shiro lines himself up. It’s barely a sound, but Shiro still leans in.

“Wait?" He asks, with an amused lilt. "I have. I’ve waited so long for you. And now I’m going to take what I deserve.”

The blunt head pushes against his rim, and Keith keens. He jerks away, but doesn't get anywhere. His head is splintering under the strain of what is happening. He doesn’t understand what this is, how this is his Shiro, how Shiro is—

Then Shiro pushes his cock in hard, and every other thought just vanishes.

The pain is searing and intense, and Keith’s body tries to move away from it as he cries out, but can’t. The hands on him are steel.

“Fucking stars,” Shiro groans, sinking into him. He was huge the first two times but this is totally different. Keith feels it like it’s choking him. “Sweet little thing, I knew you’d be worth it.”

He curls then over Keith, and Keith keeps his head down, the tears smearing into the sheets. A soft, devastating kiss is pressed to his throat.

Everything inside Keith shifts at that. He’d started to pull away from what was happening, cast this version of Shiro aside as foreign, but the tenderness of the gesture reels Keith right back in. It drives something dangerous and piercing into his chest.

“I know you’ve thought about this before,” these words are low and intimately tucked into Keith’s ear. “You’ve thought of me just coming in and taking you. Making you want it. Using you for my own pleasure.”

The words too now burrow into Keith. There’s another tender kiss to his throat.

“I know because I’ve thought of it too. I can be gentle with you, you know I can, but I think you want this too. You want me to take you and make you like it. Fuck you hard until you’re begging for me to stop… until you realize I won’t.”

Keith whines but it’s a more complicated sound now. It’s like Shiro’s reached into the black depths of him and pulled something out. The pain is a radiating heat, but now it’s twisted around something else. The fear has become different.

Keith’s cock is suddenly hard.

“I won’t break you, but I will run you down. I’ll make it hurt, and even as you cry I know you’ll love it. You’ll come on my cock and then beg for it again.” Shiro’s free hand sides around and palms Keith’s crotch. He chuckles when he finds Keith hard and dripping. “Filthy slut.”

Keith’s face is hot, and he can no longer tell if the tears are from pain or shame. Everything feels wildly out of control, like somehow Shiro has stripped him more completely than ever before, and is tugging him ahead by his very strings.

It’s terrifying that Shiro could even read him like this. Keith’s had badwrong fantasies before, but he’s made sure to keep them buried, to never think about them. He knows what people would say, how they would judge him. You're not allowed to like something like this, you're not allowed to _want_ it. 

Keith has never told anyone about the fantasies before. Even now he tells himself that he doesn’t want to be hurt, he doesn’t want Shiro to be rough and cruel with him—

Except, when Shiro pulls back and slams his cock back in, Keith moans obscenely behind the gag as his prostate is battered. Shiro growls and fucks in again, encouraged, and Keith’s cock pulses. He clenches tighter around Shiro's cock.

The pleasure is wicked and black in his belly.

“That’s it," Shiro smacks his ass too hard and it's a sharp sting that adds to the way his cock is goring him brutally. "Cunt's so tight because you want it.”

Keith wails. Every fuck in is a strike of absolute fire. Shiro is enormous, and that sensation doesn’t lessen as he fucks him. He takes Keith with an aggressive fanaticism.

_Using you for my own pleasure._

Keith shuts his eyes trying to block it all out, the words, the pain, the heavy sense of ownership radiating off Shiro. Keith knows with a horrible certainty that if he comes like this, with Shiro pounding cruelly into him, that he’ll only solidify the idea that he likes this. It'll encourage this behavior, show Shiro that he was right to treat Keith like this. It will prove that Keith _likes it_.

And he doesn’t, he doesn’t—!

But the pleasure rises at a sharp incline, twisting itself inexplicably around the pain. It's good, _so good,_ and without thinking Keith shifts his legs wider, tips his hips.

Shiro takes advantage of that tiny bit more space with mean grunt, driving in faster now. “Yeah,” he snarls. His hands are brands on Keith’s neck and hip. One keeps him down and the other drags him back bruisingly onto Shiro's cock. “Gonna come so deep you’ll be dripping of me for days.” There’s teeth at Keith’s shoulder, but it’s that same delicacy of earlier, and it tears back down Keith’s defenses. “But I bet you’d like that, walking around this base where all the Galra could smell you. They’d smell your ruined cunt, and know that you belonged to me. That you’re _mine_.”

It’s too easy for Keith to imagine then himself at a meeting, hole battered and leaking. The Galra would play at being oblivious at first, but Keith would catch them scenting the air. And then there would be sly comments, humiliating ones about sluts who had no shame. Sluts who came all fucked up to meetings just to tease men. They would wonder aloud to each other if it was an invitation, if maybe a slut like that would get on his knees for any cock around.

The idea has Keith panting hot and needy into the bedding.

“Are you thinking about it kit?” Shiro whispers. “Because this is just the first taste. I’m going to remake you into my perfect little cockslut. Keep you stuffed full and ready for me. I won’t break you,” he laughs darkly, “but maybe I’ll come close. I know your secret after all, I know how you crave this.”

Shiro’s cock is fucking in fast and hard, and it’s all Keith can do to hold himself together. Everything in him is wound too tight, consumed in heat. He doesn’t want to come from this, but he’s sliding quickly now toward his inevitable end. He bites hard at his own lip and tries to hold on— tries to —

“Just as I know after I leave you won’t lock that door," Shiro says, smugly. "You’ll leave it, just so I can come back and take you again.”

Keith tries to shake his head, but instead it’s his whole body quivering. Shiro fucks him so deep, and Keith can't hold out even as his nails tear at the bedding. The pain is scouring and intense, and with every second that Shiro holds him tight, Keith is pushed to his edge. His struggles find no weakness, only the immovable weight of Shiro, taking him however he wants.

Keith moans, forlorn. He can’t come from this, he didn’t ask for this, Shiro is—

The man gently kisses his ear. The low tone of his voice then prickles the nerves down Keith's spine, “Show me your want my come,” he demands.

It’s near suffocating in the sheets, but Keith gasps at the words. Shiro has him completely controlled, and he’s powerless, absolutely powerless not to give him everything he wants. Behind the gag he whines and clenches his tight hole. The last dregs of his self control slip away just as the air in his lungs has left him. His head is cottony, swirling, a cacophony of sensation and Shiro's words. 

He’s only _a filthy slut_. A hole for Shiro to get off in.

And maybe there is a part of him that's imagined this, being taken just like this, too hard and too fast, and Keith unable to stop it. Maybe he's woken up a time or too from a dream where a man just sees him and wants him. Has to _take_ him.

And maybe he'd reached down under the sheets a time or two and taken himself in hand to the thought of it.

Shiro makes another growled sound, and Keith feels himself slip. His cunt is agony, and his lungs are heaving for breath, and both those sensations clash inside him and rip him open.

Keith arches with a muffled scream, and starts to come.

“Fuck,” Shiro says as he continues to fuck in. “Yeah, fucking milk me, you painslut. Stay that tight and let me— _fucking shit— ah— just a little—_ “

Shiro’s metal hand slides up into the back of Keith’s hair and presses cruelly down just as his cock presses way, way too deep. Keith’s still coming and he struggles clumsily at the shock of pain, his cock pulsing hard at the panic of being unable to breathe.

Shiro doesn't care though. He comes then fiercely, cursing and staying painfully deep. Keith's lungs scream, but he can feel the cock in him hot and spilling and he feels strangely pleased at that. His body still flails ineffectually for air, and Shiro keeps him down. He fucks lazily though the end of his orgasm, drawing it out and enjoying it as Keith's body shrieks in distress.

By the time he lets go, Keith’s head is almost all dark, and his body is neigh unmovable. He barely registers Shiro pulling out, but gulps eagerly at the cool air when Shiro turns him back over and removes the gag.

His mouth is a smear of saliva, and his throat is painfully dry. He blinks blearily up at Shiro. He feels like he’s floating.

The metal hand smoothes across his cheek, cool and gentle. “You look so fucking good like this kitten.”

Keith blinks again, but opens his mouth when the thumb runs over his chapped lips.

“So good. Just perfect.” Shiro’s expression is still dark and attentive, but it doesn’t scare Keith now. He feels quieted, far away from the worries that plagued him before.

And Shiro kept his word, he didn’t break Keith.

“I told myself it would be once but…” Shiro’s hand moves to wipe the drying tears and push back Keith’s wild hair. He's so warm and the coldness of the metal feels good. “Look at you.”

He leans in then and kisses Keith’s forehead and then his mouth. They’re both overly gentle, mere presses of skin. They're nice. It's all Keith can do to crook a smile, his body is still too heavy.

“That’s good kitten.”

Keith closes his eyes and soaks in the praise. He lets the gentle caresses wash over him as Shiro settles him properly into the bed. The pain of his body is still there but muted, and he doesn't worry about it. Shiro tells him he's doing good and that's enough. He doesn't need anything else.

Shiro kisses and touches and showers him in praise. Just before Keith drifts off to sleep, he hears Shiro bid him sweet dreams. Keith falls asleep utterly content. 

In the end, Shiro was right. Even in the morning when Keith wakes hideously sore and marked up, he knows come the next evening he won’t be locking the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got the bare-bones plot, but as is my custom I am always looking for horny ideas! 
> 
> Kuron has some filthy, sneaky plans for Keith, so if you've got kinks you wanna see, feel free to drop them in the comments. Updates will likely be slow on this one, but I'm a finisher, and enthusiastic comments always inspire me to write!
> 
> ***Other Works by this Author***
> 
> [Infiltration](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18371711/chapters/43501592)  
> [Bend to Break](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18662662/chapters/44259007)  
> [Providing](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21255062)  
> [Extracurriculars](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22643971/chapters/54120790)  
> [Just Between Us](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25221826)  
> [Well Spent](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25937881)  
> [Wishful Thinking](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26053141)


	2. Immobility

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **additional tags for this chapter:** drugging immobility, rough oral sex, asphyxiation, face slapping, threats of infidelity as manipulation, facial, feeding come, some orgasm denial.

The next day Shiro finds him at lunch, stamping a soft kiss to his cheek while loading food onto his tray.

“Hey,” he greets with a smile. “I’ve been tasked with some debris cleanup in orbit, so no movie night tonight, sorry.”

Keith blinks at him, he’s taken pain killers and is still reeling from the evening before. Shiro looks bright and fresh and utterly unconcerned. Movie night? Keith’s completely forgot.

“Oh uh, okay.”

“Is that okay? I could get out of it. They asked me because it’s sensitive and needs to be done ASAP, but I could get someone else—“

Keith is already shaking his head. Shiro’s acting totally normal, and so Keith needs to too. “No, no that’s fine. Everything okay?”

“Yeah, guess some space trash just got too low in orbit. Had some fall near the Garrison recently, so they want it taken care of so there’s no more surprises from the sky.” His smile is bright, he’s so handsome.

Shiro leans in then and kisses Keith proper. “Shouldn’t take more than the rest of today. The second I get back I’m all yours.”

Any other time that promise would give Keith a warm stirring, but now he feels a chill. He’d thought he would confront Shiro this morning about last night, but seeing him now the words stick in Keith’s throat.

“Okay gotta go.” And then Shiro is moving away, his tray loaded up with food. His whole demeanor is peppy, excited. Keith watches him leave, his stride as light as air.

Keith supposes the sex _was_ good.

In a way.

Maybe it’ll be a rare thing. Something they come together and do and never talk about. It was painful, but in the end Shiro kept his word, and Keith wasn’t truly harmed. Some soreness is hardly anything, and Keith has been secretly wanting a little bit more spice in the bedroom, Shiro just surprised him.

He should have known it was all or nothing with Shiro.

Keith sighs into his lunch, appetite lost. He should have said something, but he didn’t want to make it weird. He didn’t want to ruin it. He didn’t want to see the confusion and then horror and guilt on Shiro’s face that he’d hurt Keith.

Because he hasn’t. Not really. Keith’s fine.

He got off, for fucks sake.

Keith gets up and dumps the food, frustrated with himself. He’s never been great at talking, but this one twists him up even worse. He knows communication is good, but he also doesn’t want to hurt Shiro. The man has been through enough.

Maybe next time he can just curb it to something a little bit… softer. If there even is a next time.

##

That night Keith is awoken by another strip of fabric over his mouth. Immediately he begins to struggle, reaching for his blade that surely he left close—

But then he takes a gasping breathe through the fabric and there’s a… smell. Mint and pine. Something sharp like gasoline.

“Hey kitten.”

Shiro.

The man is on top of him, hand pressing the fabric to his nose and mouth. Keith has no choice but to breathe it in. Keith’s flailing arms start immediately weakening, falling to the side. He makes a sound of distress.

“A mild sedative,” Shiro says. “Won’t hurt you, only really effects the arm and leg motor functions, similar to being very intoxicated.”

Keith feels it then, the swirl of the room, the way his limbs are too heavy to lift. Above him Shiro is cast in dark shadows, smiling wickedly. He moves the fabric away.

“There we are, just want you nice and relaxed for this kitten.”

And then Shiro is moving up Keith’s body and undoing his jeans. His cock, when he pulls it out, is hard and shiny at the tip. He leans over Keith then, dropping the weight of it against Keith’s cheek.

“Shiro—“

“Shh,” Shiro says, sliding the cockhead across Keith’s lips. “Want you to suck me. Been thinking about it all day. You can do that can’t you?”

He plays with himself, gently stroking and smearing sticky precome on Keith’s face. Despite himself, Keith feels his own cock getting hard in his boxers. The cockhead pushes just a little inside his mouth and then pulls back. “Can you kitten?” Shiro’s voice pitches low then, so sweet that Keith’s gasps to hear it. “Keith, I need this.”

Keith opens his mouth.

There’s a hiss of pleasure, but still Shiro takes his time. He dips in, just enough for Keith to get a taste of salt, before pulling back and wiping it across Keith’s face. It’s only just started but Keith feels a mess, and the smell of Shiro’s cock is overwhelming. Keith tries to reach for where his own cock is aching, but his limbs barely move.

“You look so good like this,” Shiro says pushing his cock back in. “Like you were made for it.”

He goes deeper then, starting up a slow rhythm. Keith’s body is relaxed, so there’s almost no fight at all. Shiro slides his cock back, and instead of hitting the gag reflex Keith just takes it. He takes it and breathes around the blockage when he can, watching as Shiro towers above them, eyes closed in pleasure. Like before it does things to Keith. It’s not the drug, because it feels just like it did before. His head is cottony, soft. He feels himself sinking down and disappearing into it.

And then there’s a sharp sound, a sting across his cheek. It’s a whole body jolt and Keith’s eyes fly open. Shiro takes that moment to push his cock in deep and Keith does choke then. Shiro’s huge and his throat struggles to take it after the shock.

“Pay attention,” Shiro says. The softness has disappeared and that glint is back in his eyes.

There are tears in Keith’s eyes. It wasn’t a hard slap, but for some reason it still burns in his skin with a strange intensity. Shiro reaches down and thumbs one tear away, continuing the too-deep thrusting into Keith’s mouth.

“That’s it. Want you to feel it, all of it.”

Then quicker than a lightning strike comes another smack on the other side of Keith’s face. Keith makes a high sound around Shiro’s cock, but is distantly grateful that the man is only using his human hand. It stings now, but he knows will not leave a mark later.

“Fuck, yeah. Love when you choke on me.”

Keith is. He can’t move much, but he still has full control of his mouth, and it spasms under the assault. His teeth touch the delicate skin of Shiro’s cock before he can help it, and the man pulls out quick.

Shiro doesn’t go far, laying his wet and heavy cock against Keith’s cheek, smearing wetness almost into Keith’s eye. Shiro pats his other cheek then with an air of admonishment. “If you’re not going to behave Keith, then I’ll just jerk myself off and leave you unsatisfied.” Shiro reaches back with his metal hand and touches Keith’s cock. His hard cock. The pleasure is like an earthquake through him, much larger than it should be.

Did the drug make him more sensitive, or is it what Shiro's doing?

Keith hopes, for his own shame, that it’s the drug.

At Keith’s own needy whine Shiro smirks and removes his hand. “Or maybe I’ll just go find someone else who will swallow my come without hassle.”

“No!” The rough word is pulled from Keith instantly, the fear rattling in his chest. He can’t read Shiro like this, can’t tell if that’s part of the game or if he would—

His desperation must show, because then Shiro is leaning back into him, soft hands carding through his hair and soothing him gently. “I’m kidding kitten. You’re _mine_ , I just wanted to tease you for being naughty.”

It’s so exactly what Keith needs to hear then that he turns into those hands, nuzzling them. “I’ll be good,” he babbles, “Shiro—“

Shiro slides his cock across Keith’s face and to his mouth. Keith opens, lapping at the salty heat. “You want this?”

Keith moans, mouthing at the cock, trying to get at the tip so he can swallow it down. Instead Shiro keeps it just out of reach, playing around Keith’s lips.

“Beg.”

Keith flushes hot, his cock throbs. “ _Shiro_ ,” he says. There’s a sharp smack again to his cheek, less punishment and more warning. Keith pants as the pain lances right down to his cock. Keith shouldn’t like this, can’t like this. Still when he opens his mouth what comes out is, “ _please_!”

“Please what?” Shiro’s eyes are a black intensity, and he holds his cock now just above Keith’s mouth. There’s only one way this will go, Shiro’s made it so.

Keith closes his eyes to gather his strength, but gets a warning slap for that too. Teary once more, he meets that demanding gaze feeling trapped and turned on and _desperate_. “Please— _ah_ , fuck my mouth,” he whispers, feeling the full weight of some nameless shame.

But then Shiro is pushing back into his mouth, into his throat, with a heavy groan. “Perfect,” he says when he hits too deep and Keith’s throat spasms. “Perfect, kitten.”

This time though, there is no soft warm up. Shiro curls down over Keith’s face and just begins to _fuck_ him. Keith’s body twitches at first, alarmed and overwhelmed. He garbles noises as Shiro begins to thrust quickly into his mouth, but keeps his teeth out of the way. He has to, for Shiro.

Shiro doesn’t stop. There’s nothing Keith can do but take it, so he does. He breathes and swallows when he can, but soon there’s a drooling mess everywhere, the slick filthy sound of his throat being fucked filling the room. When he whines the vibrations only make Shiro fuck him deeper, crooning himself at how good it feels.

“ _Yeah_ ,” he grunts, hands tight in Keith’s hair as he throat fucks him. “My perfect little slut, just lying here waiting to be used, weren’t you?” He pulls out only to slop saliva and precome everywhere and then fucks back in. “You could have locked the door but I know you wanted this. You still want this,” he laughs low. “You’re drenching your boxers.”

Keith knows that’s true, he can feel the cold air on the wetness, but it still makes him hot to hear the words.

“Perfect cunt, perfect throat,” Shiro moves toward his end, staying deep where Keith’s throat is tight on him. “Bet I could blow right down your throat, you’d love to choke on it, wouldn’t you?”

Keith couldn’t speak even if he wanted to, and as Shiro fucks his face, there’s barely any room left to focus on anything else. His mouth is hot, his lips practically numb, and already his throat feels brutalized. The next slap feels like it burns right through him.

He nearly comes.

“Fuck, you like that don’t you? You should see yourself.” Shiro hits him again, and that arousal spikes somehow higher in Keith. He feels more twisted up than he can ever remember being. Even last time he came before it was this bad. Last time he had more direct stimulus, and now his body is immobile, useless. He can't touch himself at all. Shiro is battering his throat, and Keith's pleasure is secondary to that. 

And maybe that’s on purpose. Maybe Shiro can see that on Keith too, how it makes Keith feel to be used, to be someone's personal fucktoy. _Shiro's_ personal fucktoy. 

Shiro curses darkly, pulling hard at Keith’s hair as he uses Keith’s mouth. “Almost—“

Keith gazes at him, blurred and arousal hazed. Above Keith he looks like a dark king, a wicked creature in complete control of both their fates. It reminds Keith of—

Then Shiro’s cock is blocking Keith’s airway completely, snatching up all his attention. Keith’s throat and body spasms, and Shiro rides it perfectly, staying deep. “That’s it, just a little— _fuck_ it’s so good— _just_ — kit—“

Heat and liquid dump into the back of Keith’s throat, and Shiro pulls out, immediately stroking his cock, spilling and spilling across Keith’s face. Keith closes his eyes weakly, feeling a string of come land across one eye. Shiro grunts and curses and milks himself, the sound so wet from how much saliva Keith couldn’t swallow. He feels it now everywhere, down his face and neck like a disgusting mess.

Shiro breathes hard as he comes down, moving back to straddle Keith’s chest. Keith keeps his eyes closed, can do nothing to clean himself up. It should be more concerning, but he’s still floating on a heady buzz of arousal.

A careful finger swipes across his eyelid and cleans away the mess. “Open,” comes Shiro’s order.

Keith does, looking at Shiro where he has a come covered finger offered up to Keith’s mouth. He opens, and it slides in.

“Good kitten,” Shiro says, when he pulls his finger out, licked clean. He moves it to the corner of Keith’s mouth, and swipes up another spattering of come, feeding it to Keith. The motion is careful and thoughtful, so gentle Keith can’t help the kittenish licks he gives to clean it off.

Shiro cleans his whole face off like this, watching with a lazy pleasure as Keith licks and sucks and swallows.

“And now,” Shiro says, scooting back further, “A treat for your good behavior.”

Keith’s still hard, borderline oversensitive as Shiro draws his cock out. His brain is still in that floating place, but he knows the second Shiro curls a fist around him he won’t last. The shock of his nerves is like touching a live wire, and he cries out with a ruined voice.

“Let go, I got you,” Shiro says as he strokes.

There isn’t any other choice, Keith’s powerless and he needs to come so, so badly. Even as gently as Shiro is being now in stroking him, his orgasm hits with a cruel ferocity, making his body shudder and twitch. It’s pleasure and pain and Shiro hums approvingly as he milks Keith through it. “That’s it, so beautiful, so perfect like this. My own little toy to play with. And look how much you’ve come, you really needed it, didn’t you kitten?”

Keith just gasps, his lungs heaving, feeling hollowed out by the orgasm.

And then Shiro is doing the same thing again, scooping up the hot spill and putting it to Keith’s lips.

“Almost done, then you can rest,” Shiro’s tone is borderline tender, and Keith takes it, takes it all in as desperate as any man in the desert for a sip of water. What just happened was barely anything, but he feels wrecked by it, torn open, and he needs Shiro to fix it. He needs to be soothed.

Shiro does in his own way. He touches and pets and helps Keith get cleaned up. When the come is all gone, he even leans in to give Keith the gentlest of all kisses.

Keith’s body is still numb, but Shiro handles him gently and moves him back under his own covers, arranging them to make Keith comfortable. Keith blinks and watches him, his head quiet, the fractious thing in his chest papered over. Exhaustion is rising then, and he must broadcast it because Shiro smiles at him fondly.

“Sleep kitten, I’ll let myself out. By the time you wake the paralysis will have gone, so don’t worry. Rest now.” A hand brushes Keith’s hair and then down over his eyes. Keith shuts them, his heart fluttering at the kiss pressed to his forehead.

It’s hard to think about what just happened, but maybe that’s okay. Maybe it can just be like this sometimes, hard and then soft. There’s something exquisite about it, about being made to take whatever Shiro wants.

Keith’s always wanted whatever Shiro wanted. Surely that still applies here, even when it’s a little too rough. After all, Keith did get off to it.

Keith drifts down into dreams, throat sore but strangely satiated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been too long!! I'm so ready to crank out some chapters of this, bring on the horny energy in the comments, I need to be fueled!!


	3. Workplace Dalliances

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **additional tags for this chapter:** orgasm delay, ass to mouth, cockwarming, rough oral sex, asphyxiation, threat of discovery.

Keith wakes to the smell of breakfast and coffee and his bedroom door being softly opened. There is Shiro, bright and lovely and bringing him a breakfast tray.

“Good morning sunshine,” he says.

Keith pushes up to sit, his body feeling heavier than usual. “Mo—rnn’” he croaks.

His face flushes to remember why his voice sounds like that. Keith’s hand lifts then, twisting this way and that. He has full mobility. “Oh, works.”

Shiro sets down the tray, frowning. “Keith you sound awful, are you getting sick?” He reaches to touch Keith’s forehead. “You look flushed.”

Keith bats it away with an eye roll. “Har, har,” he says, not in the mood for this teasing. Instead he turns to the breakfast. The breakfast, he likes. It feels just as the end of last night did, a soft care to balm how hard Shiro worked him. He takes the coffee first and hums happily at the way it soothes his roughened throat.

“Since we missed movie night, how about dinner tonight?” Shiro says, settling into the bed beside him.

It’s weird again to see Shiro acting completely normal after a night like last night. It feels huge every time to Keith, but Shiro just… moves on. The doubts and comments Keith still has in his chest sink beneath the wave of this soft morning. Keith doesn’t want to ruin it, doesn’t want to make a fuss if it’s not a thing to be fussed over.

Shiro is the most considerate, kind, wonderful person Keith’s ever met, and when in doubt Keith has always followed this man’s lead.

And clearly, as far as Shiro is showing him, everything is fine.

Keith nods in agreement and digs into his breakfast. Shiro kisses his cheek and Keith feels the flutter in his stomach. Everything’s fine.

##

Dinner is great and so is the evening after. They spend it on an evening stroll, and then do some kissing at Keith’s doorway. When Keith's sore mouth has had enough, Keith puts a hand on Shiro’s chest and he… backs off. He then bids Keith goodnight, and retreats cheerfully to his own room.

Keith’s mind spins in confusion after. He doesn’t understand why in this circumstance even the slightest hesitancy from him has Shiro smiling and leaving him alone when the times before he didn't. Keith picks at this thought through a shower, brushing his teeth and dressing for bed. When he sleeps, he sleeps through the night without visitation.

The following day Shiro is booked out at the training facility with the newest cadets, Keith sees this on their joined schedule. They have breakfast and then share a few kisses and part ways. Keith doesn’t expect to see him for the rest of the day, he knows how the cadet stuff can be.

It’s surprising then when Keith is walking the corridor from the cafeteria after dinner and Shiro appears. He comes right up beside Keith and loops an arm around him to change their course.

“Oh! Hey!” It’s part greeting and part alarm as Shiro tugs him harshly down the hall. “Where’s the fire?”

They head toward Shiro’s office, at least Keith assumes considering their proximity, and Shiro offers no explanation.

But then they’re in his office, the door sliding shut behind them, and Shiro is backing him up against the desk. “Hey kitten, I missed you,” he croons.

The pet name itself gets a shiver out of Keith. All at once he feels on alert, hyper aware of how Shiro’s mass is boxing him in against the desk as he drags teeth across Keith’s throat.

“Shiro— ah!”

“Don’t worry, I’m here now and I’m gonna take good care of you.”

He reaches for Keith’s belt and Keith squirms. “Wait— we can’t— not here.” He tries to stop Shiro, tries to catch his hands, but Shiro’s dedicated, and Keith isn’t really putting his strength into it.

“We can, and you will. Can’t tell me you’ve never thought about it, me fucking you over this desk.”

Keith feels the heat then, the shame of his own fantasies spread out before him as if they’re _obvious_. Shiro presses the advantage, unzipping Keith's pants. Before he knows it, Keith’s being spun around and bent over the desk. His pants and underwear are pulled down swiftly. In no time at all he's bare to the room, and Shiro didn’t even lock his door. This is his main office, anyone could come in.

At the thought Keith tries once more to half-heartedly fight, but he’s already at a disadvantage from just the position. All Shiro has to do is press a hand down on the back of his neck, and it’s an effective hold unless Keith wanted to actually harm the man. And he doesn’t.

He hears Shiro’s own pants open, and then the click of a cap. “Just a little, like before. You opened so beautifully for me,” he says.

Keith remembers that with blistering clarity, less beauty and more agony. “Shiro!” It’s a plea unheeded as thick fingers press cold lube into him. It’s all so fast he can’t catch his breath, just ten minutes before Keith was considering some evening reading and an early bedtime. Now—

Now Shiro is pulling his fingers out and the hot, blunt head of his cock is bullying it’s way in. “Shh, kitten,” Shiro whispers into his ear as he presses in, “if you’re too loud you’ll definitely call attention to us. Wouldn’t want anyone seeing you like this, would you?”

Keith keens, panting hard and then biting down on his own lip to try and swallow the sounds. It’s a sharp, painful fuck because he’s not nearly prepped enough. It pushes him, almost immediately, toward that dangerous soft space. The soft place where last time he just gave up and let Shiro—

“Fuck that’s good,” Shiro says, pulling out then just to fuck back in. Keith’s hands curl around papers on the desk, crumpling them. “Such a sweet little hole.”

Shiro starts moving then with more rhythm, hands around Keith’s hips to pull him back onto his cock. He doesn’t have to hold Keith down anymore, Keith feels his own defeat in the air around them. He just scrabbles at the desk now just trying to hold on, his own cock hardening where it’s bumping the front of the desk.

Shiro fucks him hard, clearly less concerned with drawing it out this time. “Couldn’t stop thinking about last time,” he grunts, “That pretty mouth of yours begging for my cock, soft and docile as you licked the come off my fingers.”

Keith’s cock is smearing fluid against the desk and his whole body is tight with shame. He hates that he did that, that the roughness every time just tears down his boundaries. He becomes a thing without agency, a mewling, pathetic kitten under a master’s hand. Even just the thought sears him, drags his own orgasm closer and he hates it, hates that this is inside him. He feels bad and wrong and dirty and—

“I feel you tighten, but I haven’t said you could come,” Shiro says then, pounding his prostate. “You’re gonna take my come first, and then if you’re good, we’ll see.”

He groans at Keith’s responding whine. Keith’s mouth is almost pressed to the desktop, drool and hot breaths painting the surface as he tries to hold on, as he tries not to come because Shiro _demands it._

Something, somewhere must take mercy on him, because then Shiro is cursing and fucking deep and coming inside him. Keith gasps at how close his own climax is, the pleasure heavy in his cock.

“Fuck,” Shiro says for the third time when his cock stops pulsing. He pulls out and Keith feels the drip of come out of his hole. Hands spread his cheeks, and Keith doesn’t bother moving, doesn’t even raise his head. He’s too ashamed at how he must look. “I love how your cunt looks after I’ve creamed it, all puffy and slutty.” A finger tugs on his rim and more wetness seeps out. “Filthy.”

Then the finger is gone and Shiro is walking around the desk and taking a seat. “Alright kitten, come here, you look like you need a minute to recover.”

Keith tilts his head to see just Shiro’s knee and where he’s patting. His pants are still open and his cock is shiny and softening. He doesn’t know what Shiro means, but he knows that his own comprehension doesn’t matter. His head is spinning, and he just needs to do what he was asked. Pushing up from the desk, Keith sort of shuffles with his pants still down, around the desk.

“Lets make this easier for you,” Shiro says when he is standing beside the chair. “Step.”

He braces Keith then, and has him step once and then again out of his pants. Every little movement causes more come to drip out of Keith and splatter the floor. Keith’s pants thrown down behind the desk.

“Now on your knees kitten, right here,” Shiro gestures under the desk to the hidden alcove of space. Keith gets on his knees and does what he’s been told. “There,” Shiro says, hand coming up to guide Keith’s head onto his knee, “Isn’t that better?”

And it is. All at once Keith feels contained, calmed. Shiro’s scooted almost up to the desk, blocking him in, but it feels nice. _Safe_. He nuzzles his head against Shiro’s clothed thigh as the man cards fingers through his hair.

“You were such a good boy,” Shiro says, “now just relax, let me take care of you. You did so well, and now all you have to do it stay here, yeah that’s it.”

Seconds roll by and then minutes. Nothing happens and Keith’s arousal doesn’t totally dissipate, but it does slide back into a warm simmer. He doesn’t feel pressed to chase it either, not when this is so nice. Not when Shiro is speaking in such a low, nice tone and playing with his hair.

“Now,” Shiro says after a long while when Keith feels very, very far from himself. “Open your mouth sweetheart.”

Keith doesn’t even open his eyes, he just follows the direction. The next moment Shiro’s cock is slipping in, and he’s being adjusted to better take it.

“No rush, just like that. Just want you to enjoy it.”

At this Keith does blink his eyes open. He’s gauzy and feels so, so good. Shiro is looking down at him with an expression of absolute contentment, his cock only half hard in Keith’s mouth. Keith sucks just a little, and gets a rumbled sound from Shiro. A minute passes like this, then another.

Shiro doesn’t get harder, but once in a while he’ll use Keith’s hair to guide him back and off his cock. It’s then that Shiro smears the cockhead over his lips, plays with dipping it in and out of his mouth. Keith lets it lull him, lets every ounce of control slip out of his fingers. When Shiro presses back into his mouth, all he can do is moan in pleasure.

Then there’s a loud knocking at the door.

Immediately Shiro’s hand clenches on Keith’s head and he holds him there, suckling on his cock. There’s a shuffling of papers that follows, and a chime of a datapad turning on.

“Come in,” Shiro says.

“Good evening, didn’t know if you’d be in,” says a deep voice. It’s Kolivan.

Keith knows he should feel panic at this, at Kolivan being less than three feet away while he’s got Shiro’s cock down his throat but he just… can’t. That fuzzy feeling has him completely, and he wouldn’t even begin to know how to fight it. Anyway, he knows Shiro will take care of it. As long as Keith is good, Shiro will take care of him, that is the agreement of this space.

“Finished early,” Shiro says, “Wanted to get some emails done before going home.”

“Ah. Well I was just going to drop these on your desk if you weren’t here, they’re not pressing, but I thought they might be of interest to you and the paladins. It’s the scans from the debris field.”

Shiro leans forward then, and his cock slides further into Keith’s mouth. It’s completely hard now and it almost chokes Keith. It’s only that he’s so relaxed that he’s able to take it.

“Thanks,” Shiro’s voice gruffs. “I’ll give them a look, thanks.”

His cock twitches in Keith’s mouth, and he gives it a gentle suck. Shiro presses forward more and cuts off his air.

“No problem,” there are retreating steps, and a pause at the doorway. Keith needs to breathe, but he tries to wait it out. Just a few more seconds.

Shiro’s hand slips back to Keith’s head, and subtly moves Keith on his cock, sliding that cockhead deeper and into Keith’s throat. Tears spring to his eyes as Keith tries not to make noise, as he tries to overcome the swell of panic at needing to breathe.

“And ah,” Kolivan says, a little sterner than usual, “perhaps you might want to air out your office after… workplace dalliances.”

Shiro’s cock twitches in Keith’s throat. “O-oh,” someone unfamiliar would think the strangled tone is due to Shiro's embarrassment, but Keith can feel the quiver of arousal, how close Shiro is to coming just from the danger of it. “Yes sir,” he says, “sorry.”

Kolivan makes a humming sound, and Keith almost, almost loses it. Shiro’s seconds from coming, and Keith’s whole body is starting to scream at him with his need for oxygen. If Shiro comes now Keith will choke for sure, and then Kolivan will hear and—

The door to Shiro’s office opens and closes.

Before Keith can even remove himself, hard hands are on Keith’s head and pulling him back just to fuck back in. Keith gets a messy, partial breath of air.

“Fuck did you hear that,” Shiro says as he starts pumping into Keith’s mouth. There’s a wild light to his eyes, a manic energy that has him choking Keith, gagging him without a care as he chases his pleasure. “He could smell you, probably smell your leaking cunt.”

It’s true that on his knees like this Keith’s been doing nothing but leaking a sticky mess onto the floor, he could feel it slippery beneath him every time Shiro moved him. The image of it, the fear and obscene wrongness of it knocks into Keith now. Kolivan has _smelled_ his cunt. The man had stood not two feet away and smelled him.

Worse is the thought that maybe Kolivan knew the truth. Galra senses were so much better than humans, so maybe he could hear Keith under the desk, gagging on Shiro like a good little whore. Maybe he could smell how Keith had already taken a load, but couldn’t help himself anyway and had crawled up under Shiro’s desk to suckle on his messy cock.

“You’re prefect,” Shiro grits as he facefucks Keith, staying deep. “Perfect and all mine, my gorgeous little cockwarmer.”

And then for the second time Shiro is coming, but this time it’s blurting salty across Keith’s tongue. Shiro’s shoe is suddenly against Keith’s own leaking, oversensitive cock, and Keith can’t help but rut against that hard, unforgiving surface. He comes quick, moan blurred by the heavy cock dumping into his throat.

The pleasure whites the rest of him out.

There’s movement and soft words after that, but Keith feels like a rag doll. At some point he’s redressed and moved, but he must fall asleep or pass out because he has no memory of it.

The only thing that brings him up is a growl from Kosmo. Keith blinks blearily to find he’s cradled in Shiro’s arms as they move through the living room. Kosmo is back and standing in the middle of the room. He’s fluffed up and growling at them.

“Kos,” Keith slurs, but then time slips again, and he’s in bed being tucked in, and Shiro is pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. He sleeps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's no better time for some filth than now. 'Shiro' certainly thinks so...
> 
> As always, if you want to see a kink or have any ideas, drop them in the comments they really really do inspire me!


	4. In Denial

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **additional tags for this chapter:** orgasm denial, public sex, come stuffing, sex toy (plug)

After that Keith finds himself dragged into the office, closets, and on one memorable occasion, shoved into one of the gyms tiny shower stalls. There’s no warning, no hint of when or where or even why. Shiro will just appear and corner him, bend him over or press him down on his knees.

Keith tries to protest, but most of the time it’s just easier to… let it happen. And it’s not like Keith doesn’t get anything out of it. This is even better in some ways since Shiro isn’t coming into his bed at night and waking him up. It’s just him and Kosmo, thankfully, because Kosmo’s been jumpier than usual. He hardly needs Shiro getting nipped in the middle of the night because Kosmo was surprised.

But as soon as Keith’s beginning to get his footing, it changes again.

Shiro has him bent over in an empty classroom and is pressing his cock in when his hand curls around the base of Keith’s cock.

“How about we play a little game, Kitten?”

Keith’s heart is already pounding. Shiro very obviously left the classroom door unlocked, and anything that might extend this puts them at risk of getting caught.

“I’m going to fuck you,” Shiro goes on, voice low in Keith’s ear, “and you’re not going to come.”

Keith gasps as Shiro fucks in then, bottoming out.

The request is… a lot to ask for. Keith didn’t have the self-control the first few times Shiro treated him roughly, and he certainly doesn’t now. His body is practically trained to come when Shiro’s brutalizing him.

“Fuck,” Shiro curses as he grips Keith’s hips. “You feel so good every time.”

Keith grips the edge of the desk and pants.

And then Shiro is fucking him, hard. There’s a little lube thankfully, Shiro doesn’t tend to ruin-ruin him during the day, but it still hurts. Shiro’s cock is still _fucking_ _big_.

He drags Keith back onto his cock, but keeps those metal fingers circled at the base of his cock. It’s cold against his quickly overheating flesh, and the difference continues to draw his attention even as Shiro slams his prostate.

Keith mewls against the wood, quickly giving up on holding on. He tries instead just to muffle his own sounds. The last thing he needs is to draw attention to them. He hasn’t been able to shake the idea that Kolivan smelled him last time, and he doesn’t know if he could take another run in.

“Such a sweet fuck, your pussy just takes me like you’re made for it.” Shiro grunts. Keith’s heard a myriad of comments like this by now, but they never fail to get inside him and twist something hot and dangerous. He wails as Shiro moves faster, crushing Keith down into the wood as he chases his pleasure. “Just like that, my sweet little kitten.”

And Keith can’t help how he mewls for it, how his body tightens and tries to arch and—

Doesn’t come.

Can’t.

Shiro can read his body well, and he laughs darkly into Keith’s ear. “Ah, ah. This is just for me, a little game you’re going to want to be good for.”

Keith can’t tell if it’s an incentive or a threat. Sometimes when Shiro’s like this it’s hard to tell. Maybe that’s even part of it for Keith, the way his fear and pleasure entwine. He doesn’t know what Shiro’s going to do, if he’s going to stop if Keith protests…

Without coming, the spiral in Keith’s head tightens even faster, unraveling him. It’s like a siren in his head and he can’t think, can’t focus. He needs to come. _Needs it_. Unconsciously he tries to reach down and remove the block, but Shiro only holds him tighter.

Shiro growls and bites at his throat, “Feels good doesn’t it? Knew you would like this. Fuck—!”

And then Shiro’s pressing all the way in and his cock is pulsing and coming inside Keith. Shiro mouths kisses against his throat, groaning through his pleasure, using Keith’s body. Keith feels the pulse, the fullness of that heat only Shiro can inspire. He always comes so, so deep inside Keith.

When Shiro pulls out he keeps his hand around Keith’s cock. Keith whines, needy.

“I know Kitten,” Shiro says running his free hand down Keith’s spine. “But you can do this for me, can’t you?” He leans in to kiss Keith’s ear and then cheek. Keith turns toward him and his eyes are blurry with tears. The realization is settling in and he feels so, so backed up. Shiro can’t really—

“You’re so good for me, aren’t you?”

Keith blinks at the intensity of his gaze. He feels strangely on display, and his clogged up mind can’t parse it. All he knows is that he wants relief and that Shiro is the key to that. He offers his mouth up then and Shiro drops a tender kiss on his lips.

“That’s it.” His hand eases around Keith’s cock. Those large hands wrap around Keith’s to stop him from reaching down. “Ah, ah,” he tisks.

Keith whines again, tries to squirm a little, but Shiro just holds him, pressing gentle kisses to his face. At first it’s near intolerable, everything is sharp and blaring. He needs— needs—

But then Shiro doesn’t bend. He’s a wall of enforcement and Keith has no choice. His body settles slowly under that care, a little bit at a time. The intensity begins to fall away until a little sense comes back to Keith. He’s still a little floaty, but already the razors edge has receded.

He feels sore, full.

When Shiro lets go of him, Keith doesn’t do anything. Instead he lets himself be helped up and redressed. Shiro’s come drips down inside his pants. The wetness makes him feel as claimed as every other time before.

“Perfect,” Shiro says, dropping another kiss on his mouth when he’s rebuttoned Keith’s pants. “And you won’t touch yourself, okay? Not until I say.”

Keith doesn’t know why, but he finds himself nodding.

“Perfect,” Shiro says again and kisses him.

##

It is anything but. If their rough sex before was a struggle for Keith, this is practically torture. At least once a day Shiro finds him and has him, and every time he prevents Keith from coming. Every time is a little bit harder than the time before. Because at least before when Keith was getting through it, it was with the promise of that sweet, heavy pleasure.

Now there’s not even that. There’s just this spiraling obsessive need that gets bigger with every interaction.

And it begins to bleed over into everything else. For some reason Keith follows the instructions and doesn’t touch himself. Not in the shower, not in the mornings when he wakes with raging hard ons and the memories of their last few trysts so fresh in memory. He grits his teeth and waits out his hard cock. He practices a level of self-control he wasn’t aware he even had.

Keith can’t tell if it’s his own stubbornness, the need to prove to Shiro that he can. He doesn’t know, other than he has to. He has to succeed.

Clearly it’s some kink of Shiro’s, and Keith wants to be worthy of that, but—

He’s received little in the way of a timeline or guarantee that it will end, that it will be worth it. Shiro’s promised every time that he will make it worth Keith’s wait, but it’s an intangible, nebulous promise.

And Keith is just so frustrated. He snarls at his coworkers, is short-tempered at a peace talk, and can’t concentrate on his hover-bike maintenance at all.

By the end of the week Keith’s nearly had it. When Shiro sits down next to him for lunch and leans over to peck Keith on the cheek, Keith swerves. Outside of the sex Shiro has been pleasantly blasé, and Keith can’t stand it anymore. Shiro knows he’s suffering, and Keith needs a little bit more than cutesy cheerfulness.

“Keith?” Keith can’t even look at him. “Keith, what’s wrong?”

Keith scoffs.

Shiro frowns. “Did I do something?”

Keith looks at him then, really looks at him. Shiro is the picture of confusion, wide eyed and uncertain. It cracks something in Keith. He knows they’re supposed to be keeping this separate from their daily lives, but Keith’s at the end of his rope. He hasn’t come in five days, and his tempter isn’t controllable anymore.

“I’d just like to get off this millennia Shiro! Fuck!” Keith snaps. And then because he can’t bear that he actually just said that, he gets up. Shiro’s expression had folded completely open, surprise and something else on display. Keith doesn't know what it is and he really doesn't want to hang around for a scolding about Keith's temperment.

“Keith, what—!”

Keith turns and flees.

Hours later when Shiro comes out of nowhere Keith practically expects it. He rounds on Shiro with teeth and claws.

“Oh feisty today,” Shiro grins as he wrestles Keith into a small storage closet.

“Fuck you!” Keith hisses, heedless of how much noise he’s making.

“No I think that’s my honor,” Shiro says, pushing Keith face first against the wall and beginning to undo his pants.

“Bastard!”

Shiro laughs, “Oh, we are a moody kitten.”

“You won’t let me come!”

“Hmmm,” Shiro sucks a kiss onto his throat. “At the end of your rope little one? Well it’s been almost a whole week. You’ve been very good haven’t you?” Then Keith’s pants are down and some wet fingers are pushing into him. “Well how about this, if you’re good today, tomorrow you’ll get your reward.”

Keith snarls and tries to elbow Shiro. It’s still halfhearted like all Keith's anger has been, and Shiro fends it off easily.

“But first, let’s tame that attitude of yours.”

The fingers pull out, and Keith knows it’s not enough prep even before Shiro’s cock is pushing brutally in. He nearly shouts before his hand gets to his mouth.

“Tight as a virgin every time,” Shiro says, bottoming out despite how Keith tries to pull away. His large hands curve around Keith’s hips. “Think you need my help again?” Two fingers slide down toward Keith’s cock. “Or maybe you’ll be very, very good and do it yourself, hm?”

What he’s asking for comes to Keith then, and Keith flushes angry and embarrassed. Shiro wants him to—

Then Shiro is pulling back and driving his cock in hard. The hot spike of pain and pleasure glances through him. Keith grits his teeth and reaches down, encircling the base of his own cock. He tightens his fingers around the base with a petulant sound.

Shiro hums in approval. “Good kitten,” he says, and Keith burns with it.

Shiro folds in closer then, pressing Keith almost flat to the wall as he fucks up into him. “You want to come so bad don’t you? Love the way my cock feels when it’s filling you up?”

It’s already so hot in the small space, and Keith can barely breathe with how Shiro moves in him. It should grow dull with how often Shiro’s been fucking him, but for some reason every time it just sets Keith on fire. Shiro’s so big, covering nearly his whole body, forcing Keith to take it.

Keith's hand tightens around his cock at an electric spark of pleasure that runs through him. He wants to come, he fucking _wants_ _it_.

Shiro’s mouthing and biting at his throat, hips starting to move faster and staying deep inside him. “Clench around me,” he grits.

Keith does. He doesn't even think, his body just _responds_.

“Perfect, so perfect, fuck. Can’t wait for your— _ah_ — treat,” The words are black the way he says them, like it’s something so filthy it can’t even be spoken. Between those and the heat, Keith is woozy, unsteady. There’s small, caught sounds falling from between his fingers.

And then Shiro is crushing him to the wall, hands bruising as he fucks brutally in. He curses and Keith can’t breathe, can’t think. He fingers stay tight around the base of his cock in absolute agony as he feels Shiro come. There’s a whine in his throat, a strange thumping in his whole body. It would be so easy to let go, to give himself just one stroke and—

“Mmmm,” Shiro croons as he comes down. Keith stays obedient, his body crying out for something he can’t have.

When Shiro pulls out he has to swallow hard. The come starts to drip out and—

Suddenly there’s a draft of cold air as Shiro pulls away. Before Keith can gather any wits to try and move he senses Shiro fall to his knees behind him.

“And now,” he says, “A little something to keep you ready for me.”

A cool, blunt object touches his hole, and Keith cries out. A hand pets down his flank, soothing. “Shh kitten, I’m just gonna plug you up like a good boy.”

There’s nothing to say to that. The plug slides in thin at first and then tapering larger. It feels… different. Strangely smooth and wet. It sounds wet as Shiro pushes it in.

“Fuck that’s hot,” Shiro says. He’s still on his knees, able to see Keith’s creamed hole as it takes a plug. Keith keeps his fingers around his own cock, unable to trust himself. He’s wound so, so tight and even the thought of Shiro looking at him might set him off.

Then the plug settles, heavy and firm. Shiro tests it in little push and pulls that make Keith breathe hard. Then the man gives a sound of approval at how it stays in place. Those fingers swipe around Keith’s hole, cleaning whatever leaked out. Keith breathes and breathes and tries not to think about it. Normally he's a mess when Shiro fucks and leaves him, but this is somehow… worse. This is claiming on another level. Shiro expects him to walk out of here plugged full of his come. And just... go about his day?

Keith thinks about their evening meetings. Is Keith just supposed to sit across from Shiro in a diplomacy meeting stuffed full? He’s seen Shiro after their couplings before, but with a toy still inside him this feels more. Like a secret.

_To keep you ready for me._

Fuck.

“If I find this plug inside you next time, you’re going to get a very, very good treat kitten. Understand?”

Shiro gets up then and turns Keith around. Keith feels glazed over, overwhelmed. It feels like Shiro's cock is still inside him, and for all intents and purposes it _is_. Keith nods, helplessly.

Shiro kisses him sweetly, running a hand through Keith’s hair. “Gorgeous thing. So perfect for me.”

Keith smiles, aching but strangely proud of himself when unwinds his fingers from the base of his cock. He’s still turned on, but no longer at risk of coming.

When Shiro leans in for another kiss Keith just melts into it. Into Shiro.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have finished my semester and I'm ready to crack out this fic!  
> Next chapter is the plot drop which I know we are all RABID for. As always I am accepting kink ideas.
> 
> Next time:  
> Shiro shows up for a chat, and Keith is ready to jump his bones.


	5. He Looks Like You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **additional tags for this chapter:** accusation of infidelity, panic attack, angst.
> 
> **please be warned this chapter features the reveal, and I have to do a little bit of angst/sad. keith will also have some messed up ideas about the noncon nature of his relationship with Kuron in this and forthcoming chapters.**

Keith agonizes though the meeting. Shiro is… weird. He oscillates between staring at Keith and avoiding him. There’s a few aborted conversations that are strange and don’t go anywhere. Keith tries not to really focus on it. He’s back to feeling frustrated and he doesn’t need to pick some needless fight when he’s so, so close to the finish line.

It’s almost a blessing when work is over. Keith rushes out and back to his apartment, planning his evening of staying in and watching the absolute blandest media so he doesn’t focus on the plug still inside him. He didn’t come all this way to trip now.

But he’s just finished dinner when there’s a knock at the door.

It perks his attention up, especially when he recognizes that cadence of knock.

Shiro said tomorrow, but maybe—

Keith rushes to the door and opens it.

Shiro on the other side looks unsure, “Hey, uh, this a good time?”

Keith nearly drags him inside. “Yeah! A great time!”

Shiro smiles as Keith leads them to the couch. He should maybe play more coy, but it’s so, so difficult with the week he’s had. When he pushes Shiro down on the couch he climbs right up on to his lap.

“Oh! Hi.” Shiro says.

Keith hums, tilting into Shiro, into the arms that open and fold around him. Shiro squeezes.

“Wanted to see you after the thing at lunch,” Shiro says.

In other circumstances maybe Keith would hold him to the flame for how he’s made Keith suffer this week, but right now all Keith can focus on is the thrum of his own growing arousal. At the thought of finally, finally getting off, everything in his body has tuned toward what needs to be done.

It wouldn’t take much with Keith still wet and plugged up, just some shuffling of clothing layers and—

He whines, needy, dragging his mouth up Shiro’s throat. “S’fine. Forgiven, just want you. Want.”

Keith’s hands slide down to Shiro’s jeans and start working them open.

“Oh! Uh— okay.” Shiro makes a strange laugh, and then Keith has his jeans open and is palming his still soft cock. It begins to stiffen under Keith’s hands.

“I was good, just like you asked,” Keith babbles, working Shiro’s cock in his hands.

But Shiro doesn’t do anything, doesn’t fold him over and take him. He just sits there looking a little surprised and a little turned on. Nothing like that black-eyed look of earlier.

Then Keith realizes that he hasn’t shown Shiro that he’s been good. Earlier Shiro had taken a lot of interest in watching the plug slide in, and Keith figured he probably wants Keith to show him that he’s still plugged up.

Keith scrambles over Shiro’s lap and onto the couch, pushing his pajama pants down. He faces away on all fours and then drops down onto his shoulder so he can use his hands. Shiro makes a startled sound and Keith takes that for encouragement. He reaches back and pulls himself apart so Shiro can see the plug.

“I kept it in, just like you asked,” Keith says, “I’m still—“ His fingers fumble over the end of the plug and then he gets a grip enough to tug it out a little.

Immediately there’s wetness, and a slick, filthy sound. If Keith’s heart wasn’t already pounding it would start at the feeling of Shiro’s come dripping out of his ruined hole. He can’t imagine what it must look like, but he can hear how Shiro takes it in.

“Keith is that—“

“Your come,” Keith’s cock is hard and heavy now, and he feels so wound up it wouldn’t take much. He could wrap a hand around himself right now, and it would be over before it even started. But he won’t. Not until Shiro says he can.

Keith wants to win. He wants to be a _good_ _Kitten_.

“What?”

“Please!” Keith whines.

A hand touches his hips, then Shiro’s nudging Keith’s fingers out of the way and pulling the plug out himself. “You’re bruised,” Shiro says. His voice is strange then, low with warning but not the kind Keith is expecting.

Keith tilts his head to see here Shiro is touching at the lines of bruising where Shiro earlier had dug his fingers in to fuck Keith harder.

“What the fuck is this?” Shiro demands.

And that’s… not right. There’s anger, disbelief. Keith sits up quickly, body doused in cold water. “It’s… what you wanted, right?”

Shiro’s face though is a fury. The way he’s looking at Keith then is like Keith has betrayed him. “Is this a fucking joke?!” Shiro throws down the plug and then stands, putting distance between them. “What the fuck Keith?!”

Keith blinks at him, heart pounding. “What?”

“I can’t believe you would— fuck— who— fuck!”

Keith scrambles to stand, pulling his pants back up. “I don’t understand,” Keith says helpless in the face of so much anger.

“You don’t understand?” Shiro sneers, actually sneers at him. “I’d fucking like to understand!”

It’s the most anger Keith’s ever seen directed toward him, and it shakes something loose inside him. Keith feels horrendous tears spring to his eyes. “Why are you mad at me, I did what you asked?” Keith hates how his voice sounds then, tight and too high. Afraid.

“I never asked you to fuck someone else!” Shiro barks.

Keith opens his mouth and— comes to a loss.

“I— I didn’t fuck anyone else Shiro?” It lilts like a question, so uncertain Keith is about what they’re even fighting about.

Shiro frowns. “Then what the fuck was that?” Shiro gestures at his body, at the couch.

Keith’s confusion only grows. “That’s from earlier, the storage closet?”

Something strange shifts on Shiro’s face. “The storage closet?”

“Yeah…? We had sex and you wanted me to keep the plug in—“

“Keith we didn’t have sex today.” Shiro’s eyes are wide now with a dawning horror.

Keith takes a breath, the sudden lack of oxygen in the room making his lungs hurt. “Yeah we did, after lunch—“ Shiro is shaking his head, arms up as though trying to pacify. “Just like every day this week.”

An awful expression crawls onto Shiro’s features. “Keith… baby we haven’t had sex in in weeks.”

He steps forward then as if to touch Keith, and Keith stumbles back. In his chest there’s a swell of panic and he can’t breathe. “W-what. No— you—“

Shiro is shaking his head. He looks like thinly veiled fury and concern. He reaches for Keith and Keith stumbles back, lungs heaving. There’s spots suddenly in his vision and the sound goes funny.

“Keith!” Shiro sounds so far away then, like he’s underwater.

Then Keith is on the ground, gasping. There’s tears in his eyes and Shiro is crouched down beside him, not touching but looking severe. “Breathe, breathe.”

The panic is stifling. It fills his whole throat and chest, but Keith tries. He tries to focus on the words, on the carpet under hand. Shiro talks in low tones and Keith hooks himself to them.

“That’s good,” Shiro says after a while.

It’s slow going after that. Keith recovers, but only enough to not feel woozy. His insides are fractious and heavy. Shiro offers his hand, and it takes everything in him to allow himself to be helped onto the couch. He sits and Shiro takes a seat a distance away. They sit there in silence for a moment longer.

“Should I… call someone?” Shiro finally says.

Keith shakes his head. “No just… give me a second.”

Keith’s mind is a mess but he tries then to pull it together. He thinks about earlier, about the last few weeks. “I thought… you were acting strange.” Keith’s head is down but he still catches Shiro’s fists tightening in his own lap. “You were… pushy. Kind of mean? I just thought—“

“Whatever this is, _whoever_ this is, it’s not your fault Keith.”

“I should have realized.”

“No,” there’s a palatable energy radiating off Shiro, an anger that Keith can tell now is no longer aimed at him. It still makes him want to curl up and hide. “No, I should have…” Shiro sighs, unclenching his hands. “I don’t know.”

They sit in silence then. Keith wipes at his eyes with shaking hands and takes a breath then another.

“So he looks like me,” Shiro says.

Keith nods. “Like—“ He remembers then the clone factory, the way that Shiro had talked, had moved. “He looks like one of the clones.”

They’d discussed Haggar’s plans for Shiro before. Long before they had started actually dating Shiro had wanted to clear the air, apologize for the scarring on Keith’s face. They’d done a round-robin of confessions and apologizes and explanations, piling them up between them until they’d felt lighter.

But they’d never discussed this. That another clone could still exist.

“We need to report this,” Shiro says. “Likely he’s on the video feeds—“

Keith cringes to think of it. He feels… wrong. He’d enjoyed the sex, had even just an hour ago looked forward to it. And now it was all twisted up inside him. That man had fucked him. He’d touched and kissed and—

And he wasn’t Shiro.

“Keith,” Shiro’s voice is so careful.

“I know. I just. He’s still you, isn’t he?”

It’s not the right thing to say. Shiro’s face contorts and then forcibly relaxes. “If he’s hurt you, then he’s nothing like me,” he says, firm.

There’s a hand offered, and Keith lets himself bend into it this time. His breathing is steadier, but his heart is still pounding. Shiro curls him into a tight hug, whispering promises to take care of him.

But the thing is, Keith doesn’t know exactly how Clone Shiro has hurt him.

Or worse, maybe part of him doesn’t think he really has.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter I really struggled with. I'm trying to hit the angst right but also not get TOO into the weeds about it. 
> 
> Also going forward I will add an "infidelity" tag to main tags. Keith and Kuron are gonna have some badwrong times together, and while this is Sheith/OT3, some might be sensitive to the twisty nature of this one.
> 
> Next time: Keith and Kuron have some... words.


	6. Several Strikes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **additional tags for this chapter:** bad BDSM, light manipulation, spanking
> 
> **and once again, infidelity tag in play just because Keith is now -aware- it's not Shiro, and I'm covering myself**

Sure enough, on the cameras is a man that looks exactly like Shiro. To protect Keith’s privacy and the delicacy of the situation, they only bring Pidge in to scout the video feeds, but leave much of the more personal details out. There are no cameras in any of the areas that Keith and the clone’s… interactions took place, but there is plenty of footage of them in the hallways.

Shiro is a barely contained fury as they watch over the footage Pidge compiled.

“They’re using your credentials,” Pidge says, switching to another camera of the man swiping into the Garrison. There’s footage of the man leaving the premises, and then returning. “He’s clearly staying off base.”

“Can we get him flagged the next time he tries to come in?”

Pidge makes a face. “I guess. Without taking this up the chain though it’s going to be weird. He looks like you, he can easily pull rank on those officers. Not to mention putting a block or alert on your credentials will give you problems.”

“Do it anyway,” Shiro demands. “I won’t have him in here pretending to be me.”

He is you, Keith doesn’t say, watching the latest clip of Not-Shiro walk through the halls. To the best of their knowledge he hasn’t even done anything except find Keith each time. Nothing else in the system has been tampered with, he hasn’t even really talked to anyone else. Keith doesn’t know how to feel about the fact that this Not-Shiro comes here just for him.

Pidge does the work in the system, and then the walk back to their apartment is stilted and strange.

“We’ll get him,” Shiro says once they’ve sat down on the couch. It’s been a day since the disastrous seduction and revelation, and Keith is well showered, scrubbed raw, but he still feels wrong. Dirty. He knows what Not-Shiro did was wrong, that he—

But doesn’t that make Keith kind of wrong too? Didn’t he sort of know Shiro was acting different? Didn’t he sort of continue to let it happen?

He doesn’t know how to say that, or to ask what they’ll do to Not-Shiro once they catch him. Keith… doesn’t want him hurt. Maybe he was not great to Keith sometimes, but he’s also still Shiro. Kinda. He’s Shiro in the ways of genetic makeup and memories.

It’s wrong, but Keith can’t help but care for that other man in some way. There’s still a part of him that’s _Shiro_ , and Keith loves Shiro. Loves him foolishly, wholeheartedly, and maybe even somewhat blindly.

And Keith doesn’t know how to change that.

Instead he sinks into Shiro’s side and lets the arm wrap around him. The silence settles and Shiro lets it.

Maybe there isn’t anything to say.

##

Despite the situation, life does go on. The next day Keith has work, so despite Shiro’s casual offer that he call out and give himself a break, Keith goes. He doesn’t want to sit around in their apartment and feel sorry for himself. He’s not—

He’s just not that hurt. Not after the initial shock had worn off. It was still Shiro, in whatever twisted evil-clone version the universe had chosen to serve him up again, and Keith’s brain just couldn’t… separate that.

Wisely he keeps those thoughts to himself.

He’s in fact so in his head, that he doesn’t even see Shiro stalking down his hall toward him until there’s an arm looping around him and turning him about.

“Ah—Shiro!”

“Quick, I need to show you something,” Shiro says, and he’s high alert, a little frantic. Keith tunes into that, and it’s not until Shiro’s gotten them into Keith’s apartment and shut the door that Keith realizes Shiro is wearing something different than he had been earlier when Keith saw him.

Keith tears himself away from the man with a hiss, just as the man’s Shiro-façade falls away entirely.

“Hello Kitten,” the man says with a grin, “seems like the jig is up, hm?”

Keith frowns and reaches for his communicator on his waist only to find it missing.

“Ah, ah,” The man says, holding the communicator aloft. “You and I are gonna have a little chat, no interruptions.”

“Fuck you!” Keith spits, and eyes instead the door behind the man.

“That’s no way to speak to me, not unless you’re looking for a punishment.” The man steps forward, a dark kind of amusement on his face. “Although with all the trouble I had coming to see you today, perhaps a punishment is due.”

Keith thinks about the alerts Pidge placed. “How’d you even get in?”

“Don’t think I got halfway across the galaxy in a rust bucket of a ship without learning a thing or two about computers and programming.” He steps forward again. “Or rather, just think… could Shiro do it? Because he is me, we’re the same.”

“You’re nothing like him,” Keith says, but the words feel hollow. “ _Clone_.”

The man shakes his head. “Kuron, actually. At least that’s how I’ve been thinking about myself since the Shiro moniker is officially taken.”

 _Kuron_.

He… has a name. Of course. Keith doesn't know why that surprises him so.

“Now,” Kuron says as he steps closer again, almost close enough to reach for Keith. “Going to come easy or hard today Kitten? I’m sure I don’t have a lot of time with you, and I’d hate for us to be interrupted.”

Before Keith can move to dart around him for the door, Kuron is there in front of him, hand wrapping around Keith’s arm. Keith tugs against it hard, but the hand holds, immovable.

He thinks to hit Kuron, but the second he swings he knows he’s already pulled the punch. Even like this, with a darker look on his face than Shiro would have, he’s just too much Shiro for Keith’s brain to ignore. It reminds Keith of the clone facility, a fight that was mostly defense on Keith’s part. He hadn’t been able to do more than cut Shiro’s metal arm off at that point, and he knows he can do even less now.

This man, this Kuron, has never tried to kill him. He’s been rough, a little mean, but it was a far cry from the violence of the clone facility.

And Keith remembers all too acutely the soft kisses Kuron pressed to Keith’s cheeks and lips after the rough sex. There was care there, a little twisted perhaps, but Keith could still read this face just as well as Shiro’s. There was care. Affection.

So it’s no wonder that it’s only a few seconds of struggle before Kuron has Keith down, sprawled face down across his lap. The wide metal hand catches Keith’s wrists and twists them back, clamping them tightly behind his back.

“Stop!” Keith squirms, face nearly touching the carpet.

The man hums, human hand sliding lewdly across Keith’s ass. “If you wanted that, you would have fought more. That was practically kittenish.” There’s a light swat.

“Let me go!”

“No,” Kuron says. His hand then reaches for the band of Keith’s tights and begins to pull them down. “My wonderful plan for you got ruined, so we need to amend that.” Keith’s leggings come down all too easily and then he’s bare. “And I’d like you to answer a question for me.”

Keith curses, breathing hard into the carpet. His body is hot, and already he feels his cock beginning to harden. There’s too much of this that’s Shiro, too much that’s Kuron and what they’ve been doing together now for weeks, and Keith can’t make his body listen.

Kuron gropes his ass and Keith huffs, tries to shift away. The metal hand holds him tight.

“Stop!”

“So,” Kuron says as though Keith hadn’t spoken. “How was I found out?”

Keith curses at him, and quickly gets a bare handed strike across his ass.

“Try again.”

“Wha—?” Keith gasps and has to turn his head to not breathe in the carpet fiber. “Let me go!”

“I will, you know I will eventually. But first: how was I found out?”

The answer is all too easily on Keith’s tongue, and he bites down on it.

The next slap is harder, sharp. Keith makes an embarrassing sound as his body jumps. His cock is completely hard, pressed into Kuron’s thighs. It’s humiliating.

“It’s a simple question.”

The next few strikes land in rapid succession and there’s pain, yes, but there’s also that gauzy feeling he gets in these situations with Kuron. Keith tries to fight it, tries to retain his angry clarity, but the spanks come one after another and he just… slides down into it. He’s so used to it, to giving himself over to Shir—

 _Fuck_.

“Ah!”

“C’mon Kitten, talk and it’ll stop,” Kuron taunts as he keeps smacking Keith’s ass. It’s red hot and growing as the blows land over and over in the same places.

Keith gasps and then, “I— Shiro saw the plug. We… argued.”

The spanking stops, and instead a hand rubs across Keith’s reddened ass, soothing even as the skin aches. “Ah, saw my handiwork did he?”

“Yeah.”

“Did he like it?” Keith frowns and shakes his head. “No? A shame, you looked gorgeous when I left you.”

“No he— you fucked me. He was pissed.”

Kuron takes an amused, audible breath. “And what? I arrived here to find you in a relationship with another man, I have just as much right to be angry, but I’m not. I’m even willing to share.”

Kuron grabs hard at Keith’s sore ass and Keith shudders, his cock dragging against Kuron’s suit pants. The arousal that had been seated behind the pain rears itself suddenly.

Keith whines.

“What, Kitten?” The hand slides around his side and then under to touch his cock. “Ah, enjoying ourselves are we?”

“No,” Keith breathes.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell Shiro if you won’t.” He chuckles. “This can be our little secret, can’t it?”

“N-no, I don’t—“ A finger strokes up the underside of Keith’s cock and he moans.

“You don’t what? I still owe you a reward for being so good all week,” his fingers play with the tip of Keith’s cock and Keith mewls, hot. “So how about it…?”

Words abandon Keith with how the fingers tease him. His ass is a radiating spot of pain, but just like every other time, the roughness only seems to make the pleasure more intense. Keith shouldn’t—

Then Kuron is turning him over and onto the carpet. Keith blinks bleary eyes open just in time to see the man bending and putting his mouth to Keith’s cock.

“I’ll give you the choice,” Kuron says, lips just at the glossy tip. Hands fit under Keith and grab his ass, making the pain spark through Keith. “I can make you come, or I can leave.”

Keith swallows hard, heart pounding. His cock is just there, red to purple at the tip and he shouldn’t, he shouldn’t but—

His face is Shiro’s face, and his memories are Shiro’s memories, and Keith’s senses have all already abandoned him. Hands dig into the welts on his ass, and Keith moans, tilts his hips up and lets Kuron suck him down.

It doesn’t take much. After the whole mess with Shiro, Keith hadn’t wanted to get himself off, and so here and now that whole week of denial comes roaring back. He earned this, earned it, and—

Kuron dips his head and goes all the way down. Keith moans loudly and claws at the carpet. He hadn’t even realized when Kuron let him go, but it doesn’t matter anymore. The only thing that matters is Kuron’s hot mouth and slick tongue. He sucks and licks and it feels good, so so fucking good.

It’s less than a minute, and Keith is gasping and arching as the pleasure crests. The orgasms is like an under toe, dragging him swiftly and suffocating under. He comes in Kuron’s mouth in pulse after pulse until his body is nearly quivering. His mind is a dazzle of pleasure-pain just as sweet as every time before.

Then Kuron gently lowers him back to the carpet.

“Good Kitten,” Kuron says soft. Keith’s eyes are still closed, his chest heaving, but he feels a careful hand pass over his forehead and push back his sweaty hair. “So perfect.”

A kiss then lands on his cheek.

“I can’t stay, it’s already been a risk. I’ll try to come see you again, hm?”

Keith blinks his eyes open to see Kuron above him. A thumb touches Keith’s lower lip.

“Maybe you could make that easier for me?”

Keith’s all turned around. He does nothing more than look at Kuron, dumbstruck.

The next moment Kuron is up and adjusting his pants. Keith’s eyes stick on the line of his cock, and he licks his dry lips. Kuron didn't even—

Then Kuron is gone. And Keith—

Some of that white bliss falls away and Keith sits up with shock. He— they—

His ass stings at the movement and pressure. His whole body is sore from what they just did. 

Keith falls back against the carpet, blinking up at the ceiling.

“Fuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh oh Keith, getting a little mixed up there, huh buddy.
> 
> Next time: Is he going to tell Shiro?


	7. Reflections

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> additional tags for this chapter: angst added. this story will have a happy ending, but we gotta get angsty first.

Keith stays awake far too long that evening, running it all back through his head. He needs to tell Shiro, needs to confess his own wrong doing but—

Before, Keith didn’t know it was a different man. This time he _did_. Even if Kuron is Shiro’s clone, is near identical, he knows Shiro doesn’t feel the same way. He knows Shiro would see this as a betrayal. That Keith had willingly this time slept with another man.

Because it is a betrayal. _It is_.

He rolls over and feels the sting on his ass. He hates that he likes it, likes how the pain lingers in his skin. He needs to be better than this. He thought he was. He—

Keith closes his eyes and tries not to think on it. He fails miserably.

In the morning, deeply under-slept and frantic with compounding anxiety, Keith types it all out in a text and sends it to Shiro. It’s sort of cowardly to do in text, but it’s all he’s got. Shiro deserves honesty and deserves to be with someone who will be faithful. Keith can do what’s right. Still his eyes burn with unshed tears, thinking about the fall out.

When there’s a knock at his door several minutes later, he has barely enough energy to drag himself out of bed and answer it. It feels like walking to the gallows. His ass is still sore.

At the door is Shiro. His face falls when he takes in Keith.

“Baby,” he says, infinitely soft. Keith immediately crumbles.

They end up on the couch, Keith wrapped in Shiro’s arms. “I’m sorry,” he says once the tears stop enough to get words out again.

“No,” Shiro’s hand pets through his hair soothingly. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“But I—“

“No,” Shiro’s voice is stern. “Listen. It’s… it’s hard for me to hear, but that’s because I love you. I don’t want anyone to hurt you.”

“He’s not—“

“ _Keith_.”

Keith pushes out of Shiro’s chest. It seems… important all of a sudden that Shiro understand. That Shiro know he’s not just some swooning maiden being taken advantage of. “No. Shiro. Look. It’s… complicated. But I could have said no. I could have and Kuron would have stopped.”

Something shift on Shiro’s face.

“I… he’s you, Shiro. Different, yeah. Kind of messed up. I can’t explain it, but he’s not hurting me. Not in a way that’s bad?” Shiro’s look of disbelief says otherwise. Keith sighs, wiping at his own eyes. “I texted you all of that because I wanted you to know what I did. Yes, Kuron was there, and maybe there was some… complicated things going on, but I’m not a child. What Kuron has done isn’t what’s tearing me up inside, it’s what I’ve done to you. How I’ve… ruined this. Us. I know you don’t think he’s you, so what I’ve done is basically just cheating and…” his voice wobbles but he tries to hold tight to his own stubbornness to get the words out. “I’m afraid you’ll leave me. Because you’d be justified. Because—“ he swallows hard because this is the worst bit, “Because if Kuron comes back I don’t think I can say no. I don’t think I really _want_ to.”

He has to look away then, the shame washing through him. He hasn’t thought it even so clearly in his own mind, but saying it now he knows it to be true. He loves Shiro, loves him, and that applies to every version of him, as fucked up as that is.

“Keith…”

“So, so if you need to end this. Us. I… understand.”

“Do you love him?”

The question is startling. Keith’s eyes meet Shiro’s. “I love you. And him. But because he’s you…? I don’t know how to explain it.”

Shiro is nodding then, his expression troubled. Keith feels his heart clench, there’s a quiver in his hands.

“Okay,” Shiro says after a moment. “Okay.” His hands reach for Keith’s and curl around them. “Listen, I don’t want you to worry about us. You and me? We’re great. If you love me and you want to still be with me, then we are. I… I don’t know how to feel about Kuron. I’m… angry? I hear you saying he hasn’t hurt you, but he has. He has just by not talking to you about the sex. That’s not okay. You say you could say no, but also it’s not… right. Not the way he’s doing it. It’s not as safe as it could be for you. Would you agree with that?”

Keith takes a moment to think the words over. There’s a rush of relief that Shiro doesn’t want to leave him, it almost feels too good to be true. He can tell Shiro’s still holding back, still repressing whatever is going on under the surface, but he’s trying to be steady for Keith. Even if Keith isn’t sure he deserves it. 

“I don’t think Kuron is as careful with me as he could be,” Keith says. He wants to give Shiro that much, it seems fair. “I just don’t like the idea that I’m some helpless person being taken advantage of.”

“No. No, of course not. I’m sorry for making it sound that way,” Shiro’s hands squeeze his. “I can’t quite grasp that you see him as me. I don’t know if that’s something I can understand.”

Keith nods. Then, “why aren’t you mad about me and him? You were furious before when you thought I had cheated and—“ the words choke in Keith’s throat. The fear of that moment replaying now sits deep in Keith’s belly.

“Hey,” Shiro’s thumbs are rubbing over the back of his hands. “I was mad before because I thought it had been some careless fling. Now, I… I don’t know. I’ve thought about it a lot since then. About my clone. He’s not me, but he also has all my memories and feelings. I tried to imagine if I landed here and you were with someone else, how I would feel about that. How if you gave me an opportunity to be with you, I would be just as dishonorable.” Shiro sighs. “I don’t know if this is right, but there’s no guidebook for it. I don’t want to lose you Keith, not if you still want to be with me.”

“I do,” Keith says, ardently. “I love you.”

“I love you,” Shiro leans in then and kisses his lips. “So I don’t know. Maybe we can take it one step at a time?”

“Yeah. Whatever you want.”

“I want you to be okay,” Shiro says. “Happy. Whatever that means. I… can’t guarantee I’ll be okay with it if you’re with Kuron again. I’m trying to understand though, I’m trying.”

It’s so, so much more than Keith deserves. Shiro is amazing. Keith pulls his hands out of Shiro’s just to throw them around his boyfriend and hug him tight.

“And we still need to get him,” Shiro says. “It’s still not right, how he’s been treating you. Sneaking around. He could at some point be actually dangerous, okay? I don't trust him.”

Keith hums a sound of agreement. He’s smart enough to know his own mind is skewed on the issue. Keith’s been Shiro-blind for most of his life, and he knows this is an extension of that. He knows he excuses the worst that Kuron does just because he looks and sounds like Shiro, because at the end of every session he’s tender with Keith, a recognizable adoration that Keith would know anywhere.

He doesn’t say this to Shiro though. It doesn’t seem like the time. Shiro’s done so much this morning just by loving Keith, by listening to him.

They stay in a tight hug until Keith’s ass starts really hurting from all the sitting.

“No work today,” Keith says then, standing up. “Come to bed?”

Shiro does, as easily as it’s ever been. They cuddle up in the sheets, Shiro’s strong arms wrapped around him. There’s no sex, not even an attempt for it, and that’s just as well for Keith. Hearing in a text about a spanking, and then seeing it on Keith’s skin are two different things. Keith is not exactly eager to see if Shiro’s temperament holds seeing the literal handprints on his skin.

And this is nice too, being held, sharing kisses back and forth. They’ve been so busy they haven’t gotten enough time for just this, just them.

If the roughness of Kuron gives Keith something he didn't know he wanted, then this soft loving is just as equally strong a draw. Keith knows he shouldn’t think of them as the same, but they’re sort of like opposite sides of the same coin. Dark and light, hard and soft.

And Keith is beginning to suspect he wants to keep both.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been ages, I had NO IDEA how to write this chapter. This fic is really testing my balance between realistic character reactions and horny plot. 
> 
> Next time: back to the filth!!


	8. A Gentling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> additional tags for this chapter: none

Once again they have Pidge set all the available alerts she can for the next few days, but Kuron must know that they're on to him now, because he doesn’t show. Shiro is visibly frustrated by this development and Keith shares the sentiment, even if not for exactly the same reasons.

In fact, without Kuron ambushing him, Keith finds his own frustration have moved to be a bit more sexual in nature. The first time he realizes what it is that's digging into him, he wishes he could erase the knowledge.

Since the incident Shiro has been wonderful and attentive, staying close and sleeping over to make sure Keith is okay, but even with all this attention he hasn’t touched Keith. In all the days sleeping in Keith's bed he hasn't done more than cuddle him close in bed and kiss him goodnight. It's nice, gentlemanly even, but it starts to rub Keith the wrong way.

Keith finds that he wants more. He wants—

_What Kuron was giving him._

It’s a shameful thought, a guilt ridden one. The first time it comes into his head he cannot believe he could even think it. 

He doesn’t need Kuron, Keith tells himself ardently. Doesn’t want him. He has Shiro and that should be enough for him. It had been in every moment before Kuron showed up.

And while Shiro has been better than Keith deserves about Keith's confession, he shouldn't have to be. Keith should be better than this, should be the man that Shiro deserves. He should never have let Kuron suck him off, and he shouldn't be thinking about the man now. It's difficult for Keith not to think of Kuron as Shiro, but he needs to do something to sever this connection in his head. He can't let this go on. Shiro is allowing it for now, but there's no guarantee he will later. Shiro loves him, and he loves Shiro. It's enough.

But the thought comes of never having those dark eyes and hard hands digging bruises into his skin and—

Keith shakes it off. There has to be a way, a way Shiro can give him everything he wants. 

Keith pushes Shiro down onto the couch and climbs on his lap

“Oh!”

They've just settled down for a lazy evening and Shiro had brought up his datapad to read, but Keith plucks it out of his fingers and drops it somewhere out of reach.

“Mmm,” Keith croons and curls his hands around Shiro’s neck. He pulls the man in, kissing him soft.

Shiro’s hands come to wind around his hips, instantly pulling him closer. Warmth kindles to life in Keith’s belly.

On the next kiss, he nips at Shiro’s lip. His fingers dig nails in, urging Shiro on.

But the man only stays soft, stays gentle. He kisses Keith in a way that’s nothing short of adoring. It’s good, so good, but it doesn’t scratch at that itch. Keith loves when Shiro is careful and slow with him, but he also—

“Harder,” He gasps between kisses, sliding a hand down to his hips to give Shiro a clue. The hands tighten and that’s better.

Keith starts to move on Shiro’s lap, coaxing them both to hardness. Keith kisses and then licks into Shiro’s mouth. He pushes and pushes, using teeth and nails and his own weight to try and ruffle Shiro up. The man just takes it. He folds under Keith instead of offering resistance, leaning back and letting Keith do as he wants.

It’s… fine. Would even be good if this was the mood Keith was in. If this is what he was craving here and now.

“I—“ He moves off Shiro’s mouth to kiss down his neck. When Shiro follows his lead, Keith turns to bare more of his throat. There’s a gentle kiss there, little more.

“Bite me,” he demands.

The resulting teeth against his skin are just a graze.

“Harder.”

Shiro does and that one gets something singing through Keith’s veins. He grinds hard against Shiro’s lap, and the man huffs out a hard breath.

“More.”

Shiro does, but the pressure never increases. Keith would bet his teeth aren’t even leaving marks. His own feel overly sharp in his mouth and he almost bites Shiro properly in frustration.

“Pl-ease,” he finally says when it’s clear Shiro’s not going to do more on his own.

There’s a low hum and the hands at his hips shift to play with the bottom of Keith’s shirt.

“What do you want sweetheart?”

More frustration bubbles up. Keith feels acidic all of a sudden, the want and heat in him turning into anger. He doesn’t want to drag Shiro across all these boundaries, he doesn’t want to have to tell him these things. He wants Shiro to just _take him_. To grab him, bruise him, have him.

“I want you to bite me,” he hisses. “I want you to _fuck_ me.”

He spits the words, too mean. He’s so hard in his leggings just from the idea of it, of Shiro somehow tuning into that Kuron thing that’s clearly in him and just ruining Keith. If Kuron can do it, then so can Shiro.

“What?”

Keith’s hands are under Shiro’s shirt then, tugging it up too quickly. The man raises his arms and it comes off, but his face when Keith sees it again looks puzzled.

“Keith, maybe we should—“

Whatever it is, Keith doesn’t want to. He’s frustrated, sliding into petulant. He reaches down and pulls his own shirt over his head and tosses it away. The next grind is obscene and he can feel Shiro hard beneath him. He wants. 

Shiro’s hands tighten almost to a painful hold and Keith sighs happily, pulling him in for a kiss.

He seems to get with the program then. Finally, finally. Shiro pushes up, manhandling Keith. Keith’s world tips and he is suddenly on his back on the couch, Shiro above him. The man’s expression has darkened. Keith licks his lips in eagerness. 

“Keith.” His voice is lower and it raises the hair on the back of Keith's neck.

“Please,” Keith says. His hands to go Shiro’s waist and then in, to where he’s distending the fabric of his soft sweatpants. Keith rubs his cock, meeting those eyes. “I want you to fuck me.”

Shiro bends and kisses him, hard. Keith relaxes beneath it, letting Shiro descend on him, press him down. He’s a heavy weight, near uncomfortable, but it’s exactly what Keith wants. He's so big, all muscle, and could easily pin Keith down and keep him here if he wanted to. Has, if the trysts with Kuron are to be counted. 

They kiss and touch each other, and Keith's heart begins to pound eagerly. This is just what he needs, Shiro to take him the way Kuron did. Hard and fast and not caring for what Keith wants—

He can just imagine how good it would be. Shiro making his body shriek with delicious pain, making him take everything that Shiro could dish out. Then just as Keith is in that floaty, good place he would be sweet. Sweeter than Kuron was, because this is Shiro and Keith already knows this man can do sweet. It would be perfect, the best of both.

The kisses start searing, but just as Keith is really starting to enjoy himself, they taper off into softer things. Shiro settles on him, stroking, calming. Keith can’t help the whine that gets out of his throat.

“Just wait,” Shiro murmurs in his ear. “I’m going to give you what you want.”

But Keith doesn’t want to wait. He doesn’t want slow and careful.

When Shiro’s hand does eventually wander down to touch Keith, it’s not possessive or painful, but pleasant. Mild. Keith’s cock still jerks to attention because he’s so wound up, but it’s not enough.

His nails dig into Shiro’s bicep in urging, but Shiro is unmoved.

“More.”

“Shh,” Shiro croons, hand dipping into Keith’s leggings to take him in hand.

“Shiro!” Keith knocks his knee into Shiro’s hip with meaning.

“I’m going to take care of you.”

And he does, despite Keith’s urging. Shiro works him in hand steadily, keeping Keith pinned and ignoring his fussing. Keith makes demands for more, for harder, but they’re ignored. It’s a similar shade to when Kuron is doing what he wants with Keith, but so passé that Keith struggles to stay in it.

Even as the arousal builds all he feels is hot-headed frustration in his chest. Shiro is so, so good, but for once Keith just wants him to be bad. He wants him to use all that strength and ability to tame Keith, use him up until everything inside Keith has gone still and quiet. Keith doesn’t know what’s wrong with him that he isn’t enjoying this. He genuinely does most of the time. Most of the time this is more than enough.

Right now though it’s falling short.

Shiro jerks him off, kissing his lips and jaw and throat. He presses words of adoration into Keith’s skin, and Keith writhes from how much he wants Shiro’s heavier hand. The pleasure builds, off-key and so much different than the times with Kuron or when Keith is enjoying this softer sex. It feels all wrong in a way he can’t describe. He loves this, he knows he loves this, but right now—

He gasps as his orgasm creeps up on him. He comes in Shiro’s hand, and while the waves of pleasure still lick through him, he knows immediately it was unsatisfying. He comes down too fast, and in his belly still is that itching want.

Shiro’s hand moves away before it even becomes slightly uncomfortable. Keith almost groans at the loss. 

Then he’s pulling out his own cock and beginning to stroke. Not asking for Keith's assistance, not demanding. Keith doesn't understand why that's so disappointing.

Shiro strokes himself and it’s messy, his hand covered in Keith’s come. Keith can only watch, there's no time for anything else with how Shiro is breathing hard and stroking himself. 

As Shiro finishes, spilling across Keith’s belly, a horrible thought arises in the back of Keith’s mind...

Maybe whatever Kuron did has broken him. Maybe the man has changed him and now he’s this, this twisted, wrong person who who can't enjoy the soft and loving sex that Shiro wants to provide.

The horror of it expands in Keith's chest until he feels nearly suffocated. He needs to get away then, needs some privacy to process this.

Keith is able to give a passable excuse that he needs to clean up, and Shiro dutifully gets off him. He flees to the bathroom.

There he stares at himself in the bathroom mirror, a hundred thoughts running through his head.

What is wrong with him?

And what is he doing to do about it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...Hey. Short chapter I know, but I'm trying to get back in the swing of this one. Would really like to FINISH! Horny thoughts on kinks you'd like to see? Sometimes it truly helps me feel inspired to write!
> 
> Also, for those of you that like the [redacted] work, my hiatus has not all been for naught! If you know my after dark twitter account, I have a whole fic (52k) there available to read. For those of you just here on ao3, you'll see it in a few months don't worry. 
> 
> Next time: Kuron comes back. >)


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